


Stay Here

by va1kyr1e



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Death from Old Age, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, I cried while writing this, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 08:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14515935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/va1kyr1e/pseuds/va1kyr1e
Summary: Moira and Angela have lived a happy, fulfilling life together, but all good things must come to an end.





	Stay Here

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, I really like the headcanon of Angela's nanobots preventing her from ageing, and I wanted to see what that headcanon would look like in action. Needless to say, I am very disappointed in myself for writing this.

Flight was supposed to symbolize freedom, the breaking of a person’s bonds to let them escape their worldly duties, but to Angela Ziegler, the opposite had become her reality. Every time she dawned the Valkyrie Suit and took on the persona of Mercy, of the guardian angel keeping her allies from harm on the battlefield, she felt even more trapped. Trapped by the crushing guilt at the countless lives she failed to save even with the incredible advancements in technology she created. Being haunted by the angry, cold glares of those she couldn’t save would be enough punishment for her scientific discoveries, but Angela’s biggest mistake wouldn’t reveal itself until years later. The nanobots in her bloodstream prevented her from ageing, from appearing as worn and tired as she really was.

Angela had known that fact for years, but its full implications weren’t realized until Moira fell ill. Moira was old and frail, and it was only a matter of time before something like this happened, but even so, it pained Angela to know that while Moira lay dying, she was in near perfect health, hardly having aged a day since the two met. She should be laying beside Moira as they waited for death to embrace them both, not standing idly by while her wife lay on her deathbed, withering away right before her eyes.

“Angela,” came a familiar but raspy voice, stirring the blonde from her thoughts. “Angela,” the voice came again, but this time, Angela recognized it as Moira’s. “You’re crying,” Moira pointed out. Had she really been crying again? Angela tentatively reached a hand up to touch her face only to find that her cheeks were damp with tears. How pathetic.

“I-I’m sorry,” Angela quickly apologized. “I didn’t even realize I was crying,” she explained, despising how weak and broken her voice sounded. She couldn’t afford to look weak now, not when Moira could see her like this. If not for herself, Angela would have to be strong for Moira’s sake. The trembling hand at her cheek furiously wiped the tears from her eyes before she finally relented and made eye contact with the other woman.

Moira’s face had long since aged and withered away, but there was still that same spark of intelligence in her mismatched eyes that made Angela fall in love with her all those years ago. “There’s no sense wasting your tears on me,” Moira grunted. Oh, and her personality hadn’t changed a bit. In fact, Angela was sure Moira had grown even more bitter and cynical. Despite that, Angela knew she was going to greatly miss her. No. She shouldn’t go any further down that train of thought lest she start crying once more.

Her lips parted as a protest bubbled up in her throat. Moira was absolutely worth crying over, but Angela couldn’t find it in herself to argue with Moira. Instead, she closed her mouth, choosing to card her dainty fingers through Moira’s dull, grey hair. Though her hair had long since lost its vivid red colour, it was as soft as ever, but still couldn’t compete with the soft smile Moira was giving her. Angela’s small gesture had done wonders for both of them, though she knew she probably needed it more than Moira did.

“I think I’m ready to die, you know,” Moira started to speak. “I’m supposed to be turning eighty in a few months and I don’t think that would look good on my death certificate. Could you imagine that, Angela?” She asked with a weak chuckle that descended into a coughing fit, her entire body curling in on itself even further with every harsh cough.

Was that meant to be funny? How could Moira joke at a time like this? Moira was trying to comfort her, and it was a commendable effort at the very least. The sentiment would have made Angela smile if she wasn’t already preoccupied with panicking when Moira started to cough. She stood over Moira’s bed, looking down at her with a concerned expression. “Deep breaths, Moira,” she tried to soothe. “You’re okay. Just breathe.”

Moira coughed violently before going limp against her bed, breathing heavily to try and regain her composure. “Jesus, woman,” the redhead muttered. “Would you calm down? I’m fine, alright? I’m not going anywhere,” she reassured. But in reality, they both knew that was far from the truth. It was fun to pretend everything would be okay even if it was just for a little while, though.

“You don’t need to snap at me, Moira. I’m only trying to help you,” Angela tried to defend herself, stepping back from Moira’s bed to give her some space. Several seconds passed in an uncomfortable silence as Angela tried to calm herself. “I’ll leave if you want me to,” she announced, her voice softening slightly.

“No,” Angela was cut off by Moira’s sudden response before she could continue. “Stay here, lay with me,” she ordered, trying to shift over and make room for Angela. Moira seemed so vulnerable at that moment, causing pity to swell up in Angela’s chest at the sight of the once strong-willed woman who was now so feeble. She wanted to be close to Moira, to comfort her the best she could, so she did just that.

Quickly, Angela slipped beneath the thin blanket next to her lover, her arms wrapping around Moira’s slender hips to pull her near. The hospital bed was impossibly tiny, and if the two women weren’t so close, there would be no way they could fit. Judging by the way Moira pressed herself against Angela and rested her head on her shoulder, she didn’t mind the necessary closeness.

Moira’s cool breath tickled Angela’s neck, causing a shiver to run down her spine and a faint smile to grace her gentle features. Despite the oppressive gloom that seemed to surround them, Angela could still find it in herself to smile. Not because she was happy, but because Moira’s faint breathing meant she was still alive.

Minutes passed in a peaceful silence before Moira spoke up again. “You know, angel, you make a delightfully comfortable pillow,” she praised and searched for Angela’s free hand, intertwining their fingers together.

The absurd comment from Moira made Angela chuckle in response. “What?” She asked curiously, peering down at Moira with a raised brow. Over the years, she’d grown used to Moira’s absent-minded ramblings, but they never failed to elicit amusement from the blonde. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted,” Angela added after another moment, leaning forward to press a kiss to Moira’s forehead as she gave her hand a squeeze.

“It was meant as a compliment,” Moira clarified with a tiny laugh, her thumb grazing over the back of Angela’s smaller hand that fit perfectly in her own. “I love you too much to be mean,” she finished.

Moira’s words hung in the air like a thick fog, suffocating Angela and refusing to dissipate. Would this be the last time she ever heard those sweet, meaningful words from her wife’s lips? Would Moira ever get another chance to tell Angela she loved her? Angela tried to push those thoughts to the back of her mind, for now, just wanting to enjoy every last second she could afford with Moira.

Angela could have stayed like that, arms wrapped tightly around Moira while she nuzzled her face into her chest for the rest of time, but perfect serenity couldn’t last forever... Moira’s breathing slowed and became shallow, before one last breath left her and she went limp in Angela’s arms. “Moira?” Angela asked tentatively. She reached her hand out to press a finger against Moira’s pulse point only to find nothing. Moira was gone.

Angela felt tears forming in her eyes, and, before she knew it, they were streaming down her cheeks. “No… No… No!” She cried out into the empty air and sat up, cradling Moira in her arms like a small child.

She’d braced herself for this moment for a long time, but no amount of preparation could numb the immense pain of losing her wife.

She’d lost so many people over the years - Reinhardt and Jack were buried decades ago, and Lena disappeared after a failed mission, but none of that could hold a candle to how much despair she was feeling right now.

“Please... “ Angela sobbed and clung to Moira desperately. “Just - stay for a little while longer,“ she begged, her voice hoarse and strained from crying. “Stay here…”

**Author's Note:**

> If you don't absolutely hate my guts after reading that, you can find my tumblr [here](https:va1kyr1e.tumblr.com)


End file.
